


in between the moments of life

by kittykais



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: IDK BRO, Kinda, M/M, Magic, Soulmate AU, basically chia's sad, but - Freeform, but megic!, but uhm jeongchan rise ig, fluff at the end kinda ig, hi, i dont know what this is, mostly my uncoordinated thoughts put together :D, nostalgic and kinda weird, short and sweet and, slice of life??, the subtle magic that you see, there isnt much romance but its there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25210105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykais/pseuds/kittykais
Summary: Around them, the magic swirls. It can feel the energies of the two people, it can sense the bond that they have. The magic forms a blood red silky string, connecting their pinkies so that only they can see.Thank you, they say. Thank you for continuing to have faithOR: jeongchan cuteness but they meet in like the last three paragraphs (mostly me rambling but its still cute)STARRING: a animal whisperer Jeongin and Plant Whisperer ChanFEAUTURING: magic and all the beautiful moments in life :DComment. Please.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	in between the moments of life

**Author's Note:**

> ....please i have no idea what this is i edited it but only on google docs editing which is trash ugh
> 
> have fun~

Magic is real. 

It is real in all the mundane ways it cannot possibly be. It resides in the hikers who never seem to go afoot, in the baristas who somehow manage to always make the very best coffee, in the ballet dancers who seem to hover mid air before they hit the ground. You can see the blood of the supernaturals that once existed blend in with the painfully boring humans. You can see the bits and pieces of the wonderful humanity in the magic that was once born. 

Magic is real. 

Magic is beautiful, it is subtle, it is everywhere and anywhere. 

Magic is _real_. It flows through your veins and inhibits your very soul. It is the kind of energy that wants to make you live, laugh, and cry. Magic helps you, it follows you, it stays with you, throughout all of the events that may pass, magic will always be with you. 

Because magic is one of those forces, that everyone wants, that everyone needs, but no one realizes they have. And _that_ , my dear, is the magic of magic. 

\---

Jeongin has never believed in fantasial magic. Metaphorically, magic is everywhere- it can be the love you see in families to the way flowers seem to sway on trees to the music you hear in your head. 

But the magic that is portrayed in books? In movies? In the media itself?

Jeongin doesn't believe in any of it. 

Because in all of the books he’s read, the movies he’s watched, he hasn’t seen it real. They don’t romanticize it, they don’t see it in their everyday life. Magic is supposedly something new, something exciting and the hottest new topic. 

It’s not. 

He doesn't believe in the Harry Potter magic, where it flows through your blood and is passed on, generation to generation. He doesn't believe in the fairies or the werewolves or the witches and the wizards. There just isn’t any proof, no evidence. He hasn’t ever seen it. 

Jeongin does realize that there is a reason those types of outrageous magics are in books- because it isn’t real. He does realize that, yes. 

But he's always been a bit of a romantic, residing in comfortable book shops, sipping warm mocha lattes in the pleasant hum of cafes and going for long walks in the city.

Jeongin's always romanticised the idea of just living, and maybe that's the only reason he's alive. 

That scares him. 

He lives within the books he reads, in the drinks he drinks, in the places he visits. If you look closely, you can see the bits of his soul that he leaves behind, the little scratches of his fingernails against the soft wood, or his breath against the fogged up glass of his car. 

Jeongin lives for the small moments in life, where you just feel alive, out of the blue. Those moments may be scarce, yes, but they're still there.

Death is nothing more than waking up after a long sleep. There’s a reason no one remembers their past lives. Because what is life than nothing more than a dream?

Life is a collection of moments. 

And Death is the forgetting of them. It’s the starting anew, a fresh canvas. Jeongin lives to make the dream he’s in something he can be proud of. 

Jeongin lives for the books he reads. For the places he visits. For the drinks he drinks. 

He hopes that one day, he'll live for someone else as well. Someone who he can read with, visit with, drink with. Someone who he can share those beautiful moments of life with. Someone whom he can love. 

_Because what is love, but not a sharing of the beautiful moments in life?_  
\---  
His head gets fuzzy sometimes. Sometimes everything is too much and too little at the same time, this confusing existence that he wants to escape. There are half finished thoughts in his head, thoughts that can't possibly connect but somehow do. 

Those days, he sits down and he sings. He sings a random melody, one he made up, or the melody of a particular song that has been stuck in his head recently. He sings, he adds lyrics here and there, until his head unfuzzes and he can finally hear the hum of engines outside his window. 

He listens to recordings of his voice and cringes at how terrible it sounds afterwards, laughing at his meaningless thoughts and lyrics. 

It's refreshing. 

\---

Jeongin sees the magic sometimes. Sees it in the way a couple looks at each other. Sees it in the way his favorite barista can always tell when he's sad and make a beverage that somehow always cheers him up. He sees it in the way fans can always sense when their favorite TV show is playing, even when they aren't in the same room, can see it in the teenagers with horrifyingly long nails that never break. He can see it in nature all around him. Sometimes he wants to just join in. He wants to fly with the fliers and swim with the swimmers. 

Those longing wants never seem to last long enough. Because as always, work is calling out to him, a stack of paperwork he never did manage to finish, the projects that he still needs to start, the deadline that looms closer and closer to him menacingly. (Deadlines are the worst and Jeongin curses his boss for constantly giving them to him. His boss probably doesn't feel the Moments, he's such a bad person.)

_Jeongin hates it._

But his love for the moments is greater than his hate for the in betweens, so he continues with his drastically boring life. (It sucks, honestly, but what else can he do but survive in this cold, thoughtless world?)

(Jeongin doesn't like his poetic self sometimes. It's just weird, because he gets into those moods where whatever he's saying, verbal or otherwise comes out in beautiful strings of words and no one is expecting it, especially at a grocery shop, where the poor cashier is just trying to do their job. He hates it, but it made him eloquent and has come to good use to woo beautiful people in the recent past..so.)

He wants to write a book. He wants to marry someone rich, quit his job and just write. Write because it helps make the in betweens less of an in between and more of a stage in life, something to look forward to. He wants to write because Jeongin always has too much to say and nowhere to say it, except for his blog on Tumblr that he spends way too much time on. The site is addicting, can you blame him? (He cries over Hogwart Houses on Tumblr daily. It's not a personality trait but he wishes it was.)

There's more to the magic that he feels.

Jeongin's always been wonderful with animals. They gravitate towards him, dogs on the street barking and fighting against their owner's harsh holds as they ask Jeongin to be petted. He calms them with long strokes, lets himself feel the silky fur between his fingers as the owners marvel at their obedience when with him. 

Parks are the best. Jeongin loves parks. Loves the way there are animals all around him, the birds in the sky, the worms in the earth, the squirrels that seem to be everywhere. 

They trust him.

They know him.

He is theirs and they are his. 

Jeongin doesn't know where his thoughts lead him, but he gives in willingly, gives in because he cannot possibly resist. He follows trails of plants to the parks and watches as two squirrels frolick in the trees. He watches as magic sparks in between them, watches as around him, plants seem to grow. He sees a man in black, strolling along a path, smiling as he trails his hand along the bushes. Jeongin can almost see the bushes lean towards him. At times like these, Jeongin can feel the magic around him. At times like these he knows that it is still alive in the very heart of mother Earth, pulsing beneath them. 

The man raises his head, eyes interlocking with Jeongin's own. His eyes flash. 

Jeongin waves. 

This man. He is the one that makes Jeongin believe in what has always existed. 

\---

Chan loves magic. Loves it because he knows it's real. Loves it because it makes him feel special, lets him run away from his boring world in search of a better one. Magic here, in this city isn't prominent. But it's still there. It sways with the cherry blossoms that line the street, it runs with the stray cats that seem to be everywhere, it resides in the very heart of people. 

Chan only lives for the magic, he only survives so that he can feel it, once again. He lives for the sudden flashes of realization he gets when witnessing another happy moment. 

_Chan hates it._

Hates it because no one else feels the same way. No one else can feel the message magic tries to spell out for them, no one understands that it's _there_ , it's subtle, it's beautiful and that it isn't a figment of Chan's imagination. 

Chan knows it's real because he can see it in the way music makes people feel. It's the magic of the notes, the chord progressions and the lyrics that can control the emotions of whoever hears it, plants, animals, humans. The gods of music died but lived on within music producers and singers and dancers. 

Chan can hear the waves washing along the beach wherever he is, can faintly remember the smell of the ocean, the taste of the salty wind against his lips. He can't seem to remember anything else except for how it feels. Chan believes in magic because it's childish, it's immature, and it's one of the most complex forces Chan has ever had the pleasure of feeling in his entire life. 

Chan shakes himself out of the trance that he has somehow managed to put himself in. Magic is here. He knows it is, but he must not get carried away with his thoughts, or else he will succumb to them, and follow them where they lead, back into the ocean from where his soul lives. 

Chan takes the bus back home. He doesn't want to experience the wondrous joy of living anymore. He sits in the middle of the bus, running his hands along the cracked leather and scrunches in on himself, hood up and music blasting. 

Chan lives to find the person who he can live with. Feel the magic with. Chan has never been much of a romantic, but if the right person comes along, he supposes he can try. 

\---

Chan's taking a break from his job to take a walk in the park. He loves the plants. Loves the way they move, the way they sway, love how, even being unable to talk or communicate, they're the best listeners. He loves how he can help them grow by watering them and giving them sun and just loving them, loves the way they make him feel. Being around plants has always been a weird quirk of his. 

He has never seen a plant die, has never neglected one enough to let it shrivel into nothingness. He has pots from his high school years, where the original plant has been long gone, but left behind offspring of its own, continuing the legacy. 

He sees the way the bushes crane towards him, wanting to feel the touch of his fingertips along their leaves. He wonders if the man ahead of him sees it too. 

He's wearing a yellow shirt and a black beret, looking up at the cherry blossoms above them. The pink flutters down around the boy in a way Chan knows shouldn't be real, framing the boy's figure as he looks at two squirrels playing at his feet. 

The boy reaches out, his fingers stretching towards the animals, but still safely away. One of the squirrels stiffens and looks up at the boy, tilting its head inquisitively. Chan sees the way there are more birds on the trees around this boy than on any tree, hears the way they chirp, beautiful melodies flowing from their beaks. 

Chan knows, then, that he's the one. 

Watches as the boy turns around to face him, realization dawning in his eyes as he stares back at Chan. 

Slowly, the boy's arm raises, and he waves. 

Around them, the magic swirls. It can feel the energies of the two people, it can sense the bond that they have. The magic forms a blood red silky string, connecting their pinkies so that only they can see. 

_Thank you, they say. Thank you for continuing to have faith._

They're in a trance, it seems, because both the boy and Chan walk towards each other slowly. The animals and plants around him flutter lightly in a breeze that isn't there. 

The boy is slightly taller than Chan, something Chan hates greatly but loves at the same time. He's a contradiction, warm hello shirt opposing the hard, breathless look in his eyes. Chan has never seen eyes like his, has never seen the pure wonder in them. 

They meet not in the middle of the park, but slighty off kilter. Nothing is perfect, there is dry grass under their feet, the louds chirps of birds around them, and people around them. 

"Can I kiss you?" The boy asks. Chan nods, eyes trained solely on the person in front of him. "My name is Jeongin." The boy- Jeongin says. Chan smiles. "My name is Chan."

_Nothing is perfect except for the lips on his._

Jeongin and Chan meet in a circle of subtle magic. 

Chan pulls the boy closer to him, cupping his face roughly and pressing his lips harder against Jeongin's so that the imprint of his lips will always be there. 

Pulling back, Chan surveys Jeongin's face. He's smirking slightly, moving forward to kiss him again, but softly this time. They take their time unraveling each other in that park. They have all of eternity to be with each other. All of eternity to love and cherish each other, and to find the things that make them human. 

Jeongin can live now. 

The in betweens and the moments slide into one. 

In between here and now, there is Chan and there is Jeongin. Every in between is now a Moment, and every Moment is now an in between. 

**Author's Note:**

> comment comment comment comment comment on this trash! please! do! comment! i beg of you im lonely and i need validation! woo! (but seriously do comment lmao even if its just to say hi)  
> again, i have absolutely no idea what this is i just wanted to write smth because i feel weird today!  
> and because like school is in 6 weeks and its also not because we're having Distant Learning and i can't do my extracurriculars i think so it is honestly a mess lmao. very much a mess. 
> 
> stay safe <3


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